The Queen's Journal
by Suze21
Summary: Anne has no one she can trust to share her secrets with, especially the ones about her rescuer Aramis, so instead she conceals them in her personal journal. All rights to the BBC for producing this cracking adventure. I own nothing of Paris or the Musketeers. All for one and one for all!
1. Chapter 1

Anne took another deep, calming breath as she walked toward her apartments surrounded by not only her loyal band of Musketeers, Athos, Porthos and Aramis, but also half a dozen servants and four of her ladies-in-waiting.

She had just left the King who was almost apoplectic about her being so close to danger. He had railed against the prisoners, their guards, the Governor of the prison and had then set about screaming at Captain Treville and the Musketeers for the allowing this to happen, as if they had personally planned the escape and put her in danger.

It had taken a good ten minutes for him to calm down enough for him to hear Anne speak. She had tried to be so calm and matter of fact about what had happened there. She had held her shaking hands in her lap as she recounted the events of the day and had sought reassuring glances from Captain Treville and the Musketeers, especially Aramis, the one who had most certainly saved her life.

The whole experience at the prison had left her badly shaken. Never before had she had a gun held to her head, nor been surrounded by gunfire. It was a small miracle she hadn't been injured at all and that was probably due to Aramis. She knew that there were always plots afoot and those that wished the King and herself ill but it had never been so close and personal. And they always seemed more political than physical.

Finally the doors of her apartments appeared but before she was allowed to enter Athos and Porthos searched her rooms to make sure that no threat, especially with Fadim on the loose, was lurking within. Aramis remained with her, his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it at the first hint of danger. In one sense his presence was reassuring but in another, that someone could be in her rooms wishing her harm scared her. Was no place safe for her anymore? She could only think of one.

Athos appeared before her and bowed "Your Majesty, there is no one here, you are quite safe."

"Thank you Athos." Anne looked at him for the first time, actually seeing him, this weary soldier who defended her. "I wish to thank you, and all the Musketeers, for your diligence in ensuring my safety." She was wringing her hands again.

Athos looked at her carefully before bowing to her. "Your Majesty, it is our duty to protect you." he growled out. And then he withdrew with the others to the outer doors of her apartment.

Anne closed her eyes as the servants scurried around her and her ladies-in-waiting whispered away in the corner, no doubt lamenting the fact the Spanish queen had survived the latest attempt on her life. "Your Majesty?" Anne opened her eyes to see one of the servants indicating that some water had been brought so she could bathe.

One of the servants came forward to help Anne remove her ornate collar and jewels. "Thank you Giselle." Anne murmured. She raised her voice a little "Thank you but you may all go. I wish to have a little peace after the excitement of the day." She was ready to scream, she needed to be alone. All of the servants, except for Giselle, and the ladies-in-waiting bowed to her and headed out of the room.

Once Giselle had helped her remove her heavy gown she dismissed her as well. Anne wanted, needed some space to breathe, to think, to be alone. One of the many drawbacks of holding a position such as hers was little or no privacy.

As she washed her hands removing the last of the prison grime, they once again started to shake betraying her calm exterior and showing the true effect the day had had on her. Anne wiped her face with the cool cloth and took another deep, calming breath. She placed the cloth on the back of her neck, sighing as it relieved her aching muscles. She doubted there was anything that would relieve the discomfit within her mind however.

Anne thought of going to bed but she didn't feel like she could sleep. The rush of adrenaline was still running its way through her and she felt jittery, jumpy. Whether it was caused by the events or the fear she could not say. She wanted to talk to someone about what had happened today but there was no one she could share it with, she had no one she could trust.

Anne thought that if she could share it with someone perhaps it would seem less dramatic, less sinister. She would have loved to talk more to Aramis. He seemed very nice, caring and calm. He seemed to be relaxed even about the drama of the day. But this was probably just a 'normal' day for him and he would think her foolish.

She had felt safe in his arms, protected even as the guns fired and the heavy boots of the men ran past her. But it wouldn't be appropriate to talk to him. She could write, not to him but about the day. She went to the hiding place in her room for all the things she wanted to keep from prying eyes.

Anne took out a journal that she had first started when she came to France to marry Louis. She hadn't written in it a lot, just a few things like her wedding day and night, when she lost her child and her frustration at being able to get pregnant again. Things she wanted to share but had no one with which to do that.

Anne took the journal to her desk in her private sitting room and sat down in her chair. She opened the book, her eyes flitting over the previous entries and finally resting on the first blank page. She drew her quill into her into her hand and dipped it into the inkwell. A drop of ink dripped on to the cream page as she began...


	2. Chapter 2

"Aramis," Anne began, but she had no intention of ever showing this to him or anyone else. But using his name and holding his image before her as she going to write about the day made it seem that it was more of a conversation than an outpouring of feelings. And it was better than starting 'Dear Diary' or something else equally childish.

"Today was...was well I really don't know how to describe it to you. For you, it was probably just a very ordinary day. Your days as a Musketeer must always be filled with danger and adventures. But for me, it was anything but ordinary.

I have never been so scared in my life. Not even when I was leaving my home in Spain to come to France and marry Louis. Rochefort had come to Spain to help educate me about France but that didn't allay my fears. I still cried copious amounts of tears but it was a childish fear, I was worried about being happy, being loved. I'm so thankful I didn't dissolve in tears today. I would be mortified if the Musketeers thought I was weak.

I have never had anyone, until now to my knowledge, hold a pistol to my head and demand something so I would remain unharmed. I could see the looks of panic and fear on your faces when that man, Fadim, did exactly that. You weren't fearful for yourselves, it was all for me. And I think the panic came from the fact you all felt powerless to do anything to save me except give in to his demands.

I'm sure I looked absolutely terrified and I not ashamed to admit it but I was, completely. Even now I'm still shaking. I don't seem to be able to get my feelings under control. The King probably hasn't helped there with all his yelling and then going on and on about what could have happened to me. I know that I was fully aware, as you all were, that things could have ended very differently today.

I know that any of the Musketeers present would have traded places with me in a heartbeat. You are all so dedicated and brave when it comes to the protection of the King and myself. I realise that this is the job that you do each and every day. I am in awe of your strength and attention to duty. I am much closeted away here in the palace but I am now very aware of that.

I will be forever in your debt for the way you rescued me when I was caught in the crossfire. You thought nothing of yourself, only of me, as you raced across the distance to gather me your arms to protect me with your own body. I was terrified of dying but I was even more scared of being shot and lingering in pain before succumbing to the injury."

Anne stopped writing for a moment, the scene replaying in her mind. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. How the shots rang out rang around her. The puffs of smoke rising from the muskets. How she had stumbled away from Captain Treville's grasp and the safety of the Musketeers and guards. How she tried to make herself as small as possible so she wasn't a viable target and it would allow the Musketeers to return fire without fear of hitting her, although she was sure they were all excellent marksmen.

The next thing she remembered was being in Aramis' arms and falling. Then the weight of his body, shielding her from the booted feet running past. "You protected me as the guards and Musketeers gave chase to those men. Their boots hammering on the cobblestones as they passed us by.

But then after all the gunfire and shouting and noise, the silence rang out. And I finally heard your voice saying "Don't worry. It's fine. Look at me, look at me. It's over, I've got you." And in the haze of fear I realised that you indeed have me and I responded with "So you have."

I have never felt safer than when you were holding me, shielding me from harm, placing yourself at risk for me. Despite what was going on around us, you held me so gently, as if I was something fragile, breakable, something that should be treasured. I haven't felt like in such a long time. And I doubt you even realised that.

When you lifted me up from the ground you apologised to me and yet I was unharmed. You, however, were not. A bullet had grazed your jaw and you thought nothing of it but it must have been painful. I reached out to touch you because I wanted to give you the same comfort as you had done for me. It was like you knew what would happen if we touched.

Your hand touched mine and even through your leather glove I felt a spark. That indefinable thing that tells you, you have met someone who will change your life."

Anne paused, it was more than that though. She felt his warmth, his strength and his gentleness in that moment but there was something else. It was if a sudden peace descended, leaving them in a bubble of solitude. Something had passed between them, a moment, recognition of a shared experience or maybe something deeper, something stronger, and a connection. She turned back to her journal. "But what completely shook me in those moments with you in amongst the chaos was the way you looked at me."

Anne looked about her sitting room, it was still and quiet. She took a deep breath and exhaled softly. She felt cleansed of the disturbance in her mind. Putting the quill down she reread the last few paragraphs of her thoughts and feelings. At the last sentence she bit her lip gently.

She realised exactly what she had put on the paper, thankfully that no one else would read it. For if they did they would surely be able to see the start of a dangerous but loving and fulfilling relationship between the Queen of France and her most loyal Musketeer.


	3. Chapter 3

Anne hurried into her sitting room, having dismissed her ladies-in-waiting, her servants and guards at the doorway. She collected her journal from the hiding place and went to her desk. She settled herself and drew her quill into her hand. She dipped it onto the ink and began.

"Aramis," she started "our last two encounters have been quite different from one another. The first, after that day at the gaol, was here in the palace. Porthos was at your side and my ladies-in-waiting followed meekly behind me.

I could think of no way to see or speak to you alone. And I probably never will, which is only right and proper as I am the Queen of France but I am also just a woman. And although there were others in attendance I felt that Porthos stepped away from us, we were completely alone. Is that what I truly want? To be alone with you? Yes, I think I do.

As I walked through those doors into that room, my stomach was tied in knots. But I made sure to cover my nerves by calling out to you hoping that my voice wouldn't waver as I said 'Monsieur Aramis, bravest of all the King's Musketeers!' You and Porthos both bowed but you kept your eyes on me as you answered that you were only amongst the bravest.

I could see I would have to manage this encounter as you would be constrained by protocols. We could not be ourselves with each other so that is why I asked your friend to step away for a moment, to give us the impression we were alone. I am, however, always being watched by someone, the ladies, the guards, the servants, some of which are spies for the Cardinal, the King, Spain or one of our other enemies.

I stepped forward, my hand reaching out to your injured face asking if it hurt still. You, of course, played it down 'Oh not at all.' You must have seen the disappointment in my face because you suddenly changed your mind. 'Well perhaps it is a little sore' you mumbled out for me. Your statement allowed me to show a little sympathy to you as I murmured 'Poor gallant Aramis.' and my hand fluttered towards your cheek. I could feel the warmth of your skin and the roughness of your beard. Your eyes continued to search my face.

It was then I remembered my cross. 'Accept this gift as a token of your Queen's gratitude.' I said as I pulled the ribbons that bound the chain about my neck. As I went to place it around your neck I needed to step in closer to you. I could smell you, I like how you smell. It's so unlike the King and most of the men I see at court, all lavender and rosewater. It reminds me of your strength and bravery. It's a unique scent, I'll never confuse you with anyone else.

My hands rested on your broad shoulders for a brief moment. I could feel you beneath my hand, your leather jacket both rough and smooth.

The cross was about your neck when I said 'May it keep you safe...always'. You see, I want you to be safe. You have become important to me. I have so few people I can trust around me here at court but I feel that I can trust you, trust you completely. I do hope that I am right.

You leaned forward looking straight at me, straight into me. I felt like you were reading my thoughts and feelings. I felt like you knew everything about me in that one moment. And then in that moment I wondered if you were going to kiss me. It looked like it, it felt like it. It would be an impetuous thing.

I realised that if you kissed me there would be no hiding it and no hiding the fact that I would return that kiss. I turned and walked out of the room. My cheeks burning with the thought of you kissing me.

Our next encounter was a completely silent one, on our accounts. But your actions spoke more loudly than if you'd stood on the tallest point in Paris and shouted it out in your loudest voice. I only hope that I was the only one listening.

As the King and I walked to church for the Easter Mass that day I could see all the Musketeers guarding us, even the ones moving amongst the crowd lining the street. And I could see you, as you carried your gun, vigilant, looking out for trouble, looking to our protection.

And then suddenly there was a shout of 'Death to tyrants'. The King and I were pulled backwards as you ran forwards, towards the danger to protect us.

Captain Treville managed to get the King past the danger but then that man threw the bomb. I watched it sail through the air, my heart in my mouth, until the bomb landed literally at my feet. The others were trying to guard me and then I saw you running toward us. I heard someone call out 'No Aramis!'.

I see you...I see you throw yourself over the bomb. Placing yourself in danger once more, protecting me with your body again. Once more I was scared but this time it wasn't for myself it was for you, you brave and foolish man. You didn't know that the bomb wouldn't explode and kill you. Had you died I don't know what I would have done.

I don't really understand what is happening between us. I wonder if it is all in my head but I feel something in my heart especially when I look at you or we look at each other. There seems to be something in each of us that speaks to the other.

I then realise that Athos is pushing me towards the carriage, towards safety because you have called out that its all clear. But I want to see that you are safe too. I kept trying to look back at you while being pushed forward. And finally I get to see that you are indeed, fine.

Your eyes only left mine when you kissed the gift that hung around your neck, the one that I had given you before. I was so relieved, I was almost pleased to be in the carriage with Louis and the Cardinal. The only thing was that then I did not know where you were. Even now I am hoping that you are back at the garrison out of harms way but some how I don't think you would be who you are if you were.


	4. Chapter 4

"Aramis" Anne began her entry, her eyes lowered and a faint blush to her cheeks "I am so ashamed of myself and my behaviour.

Today when I came to save the Comtesse de Larroque at the trial, I thought that by bringing the King's message and staying the execution you would see me in a better light. And that I would get to see you, maybe even have the chance to speak to you again. I must admit I was slightly annoyed at the King; he had made some remark about Ninon being good looking and her company, so I wanted to see you to feel better about myself.

Then as I stood there in the court room I saw that Ninon was wearing around her neck the cross that I had gifted to you after that fateful day in the gaol where I had been taken hostage. I don't know if you saw me stiffen slightly as I turned looking for you in the crowd.

I was thinking about why you would have given her my gift. Especially after you had kissed it the way you did, looking directly at me, after throwing yourself on the bomb to save me. I was scared for you that day, not the King or myself but you. I thank God every night that the bomb turned out to be a fake.

I thought that you must have had some sort of feelings for me and yet, here was the cross, around Ninon's neck.

I was jealous of her in that moment and my feelings were a little hurt. It was foolish and childish of me to think that way but I thought you had placed your attentions...your affections on her. That is why I was so cold with you when we first met on the walk after the Cardinal's dramatic seizure in the court room as he was announcing the sentence Ninon was to face.

I shouldn't have been upset or jealous. I am a married woman and the Queen of France. My marriage, however, is one made of politics and duty, not one of love and romance. Louis reserves those last two things for other pursuits and people, rather than for me, his wife. We were so young when we married and I had hoped that we would come to love each other, in one respect we have, but it is still not the type of marriage I dreamed of having.

You seem to...I don't know...recognise that in you comment in our conversation. That 'we are all servants of France, Your Majesty.' And that includes me, servant to my position, not at all free to do as I wish. Held in place by duty and responsibilities. There are times when I wish I was someone else.

When we were there together on the walk, talking, you didn't even look at me when you spoke to me and you usually do. Your eyes are the only ones that truly look at me, truly see me. But then I was unable to look at you as the question formed in my mind. It came, I think, from my feelings after the King's comments and then seeing my gift to you around her neck.

I asked the question, and I didn't look at you because I didn't want you to see the jealousy, the pain my eyes would have revealed. 'Is Ninon your lover?'"

Anne stopped as the blush streaked across her cheeks again. To ask such a question of him! It really was not her place to know who Aramis was bedding. He was only a Musketeer. She couldn't help it though; the question had darted out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Looking back at that moment she knew that she hadn't really wanted to hear an answer to the question she had posed, particularly if it had been a 'yes' then her heart would have been bruised, her pride wounded. But she hadn't taken it back, she hadn't told him not to answer.

Dipping her quill in the ink once more she continued "I should have realised that you would want to provide Ninon with support and give her a reason to hope. That is why you would give her our cross to wear. I think of it as our cross because of what we shared in the moment that I gave it to you.

I felt your warmth as I put my arms about your neck. I wonder if you felt the warmth of my skin? I could smell the aroma of leather, horses and manliness. I do rather love that smell and it will always remind me of you. I always try to wear the same scent now as I did then. It is lily of the valley with whispers of vanilla. I hope that you like it.

Your answer to why you had given Ninon the cross put me to shame 'She is a good woman, facing a hideous death. I...I only wanted to comfort her.' Of course you would want to comfort her, isn't that what you did for me. It's one of the reasons why I feel a connection with you.

Even though you didn't know what I had been thinking, imagining, I had to ask your forgiveness. 'Forgive me. Your compassion does you credit.' You gave me a smile that seemed to say that you knew exactly what I had been thinking, feeling about you in that time between marching into the court and meeting on the walk.

Aramis, you always seem to think of other people before yourself and show care and compassion for them. I think that these are two of the reasons why I admire you, especially when you are often called upon to defend the King and I by using your sword. It must go against your nature, somewhat, and your faith. I must say you however, that you are rather good at what you do."

Anne placed the quill back in the inkwell. She placed her hands beneath her chin as her eyes looked over all that she had written. She knew she took a risk in writing all of this down but with no one she could trust implicitly, she had no other option other than writing it down.

Anne thought once more about trying to find a woman she could employ as her personal confidante, a gentle woman she could talk to. Perhaps in time, if she could find the right one, this imaginary woman might even become a friend. But who could she ask for recommendations? She sighed as she rose from the chair to return her journal to its hiding place. Things to think of at another time.


	5. Chapter 5

Anne sat at her desk in her private sitting room, the light of a single candle burning brightly in the darkness of the room. Her journal open in front of her, quill in hand, the page almost full with her neat script.

Her eyes flickered about the room, her head tilting listening for any sound that may indicate that someone was drifting around the corridors outside her apartments. There were no sounds betraying a presence out there, nothing but silence.

Her attention returned to the page and what she had written.

"Aramis...so much has happened since I last wrote here. I'll try to write down everything that occurred, although I may not remember everything and there is something that I should probably not write about at all.

I'll start with how I made my annual trip to bathe in the restive waters of Bourbon-les-eaux, in the hope that I fall pregnant and ensure Louis' line on the throne. You, Athos, Porthos and the newly commissioned Musketeer, D'Artagnan accompanied me, along with my maids Giselle, Clementine and Caroline. You were there to ensure my safety and in previous years it has been uneventful. In fact, it has been a refuge for me from the intrigue from the court and the constant intrusions on my life, a place of peace and birdsongs.

We had a couple of lovely days where I had swum in the lake and relaxed. It had been so peaceful but I could hear the clash of swords occasionally. I had guessed D'Artagnan was honing his Musketeering skills.

I had hoped that we would have the chance to, at least, talk again. I like talking to you Aramis; you don't talk or look at me like I am the Queen of France. But if I had know that the wish would cost Caroline her life and cause you distress, I would have changed my mind.

When the shot rang out I thought you were either hunting or instructing D'Artagnan. Never did I imagine that I was truly the target and that Caroline had been killed. The first indication that something was amiss was when I heard you all come crashing towards the tent, thinking like the assassin that I had been killed. If I had stayed in the tent perhaps events would have been very different, one certainly. But I don't regret that moment.

D'Artagnan and Porthos made sure I got to the horses safely. There was some confusion however when we got there. I couldn't go in the carriage and there were no sidesaddles so I was going to have to ride with someone. I wanted to ride with you so I went and stood expectantly next to your horse while Porthos and D'Artagnan saddled the rest of the horses. By then you and Athos arrived and the looks on your faces told me we were in grave danger.

You never questioned that I would ride with you, you didn't even blink. D'Artagnan handed me up to you and I could smell your familiar fragrance. Under any other circumstances I would never had been that close to you. Feeling your body behind me and your arms around me holding the reins gave me some comfort.

You tried to reassure me that we would be fine; telling me you had been in worse situations than the one we found ourselves and had always prevailed. You even said that it was a relatively quiet day for you all. You were lying; I know you were trying to make me feel confident and safe.

We seem to ride for hours and then finally there was a chance to rest and something to eat. You were fishing in the stream when I came up behind up you. You stood there in the cold water in your undergarments, with your chest bare and the sun shining on our cross about your neck. You did not appear to be self-conscious and I tried not to stare at you. I saw the scars from old battles on you but they only made you more handsome to me.

I asked you if I could help you. I knew that I couldn't fish with you but I wanted to help you, to show you and the others, I could be useful. But you told me to rest, like I was some sort of wilting flower and I told again you that I wanted to be useful.

You asked if I could gut a fish. I didn't know if you were teasing me or not, I think my face may have given you my answer because in your next breath you told me that Porthos was building a fire and that he would appreciate me collecting sticks for it.

We looked at each other and gave each other a tiny smile. I then made that ridiculous comment about maybe being able to cook a little. The next thing I'm sitting at the fire with you all, cooking, or should I say burning the fish.

You all sat there and lied to me about how well I had done. I watched you the most, you ate the fish without a thought, and it must have been terrible. The others all seemed to clean their plates but no one wanted more than one serve even though they seemed to be starving before we sat down to eat.

And then we were on the move again, the assassin and his men having once more caught up with us. D'Artagnan again helped me to your horse and handed me up to you. And then we were off across the countryside once more. There wasn't much opportunity to speak but I did appreciate the chance to be close to you and to be able to smell you.

Then, by some small miracle, the convent came into view. I'm sure you and your brother in arms were relieved that a place of safety was so near at hand when we were in desperate need. I, too, was relieved and grateful for a place of refuge and rest. I didn't realise that Porthos and D'Artagnan would leave us. I was a little concerned when they rode off but I knew that you and Athos would defend the convent, and me, to best of your ability which is considerable."

Anne heard a creaking of a floorboard outside her door. She quickly snuffed out the candle, the smoke curling away while the wick glowed for a brief moment. She looked towards the door and could see a darker shadow moving outside.

She stayed where she was, not wanting to make any noise or give any indication that she was awake. Anne wasn't sure who it was out there, it could be one of the Musketeers on duty or one of the servants, or it could just as easily be Louis but Anne really didn't feel like finding out.

Once the shadow and its accompanying footsteps moved away from her door she silently put her journal away and drifted to her bed.

A/N Apologies for the delay in updating but I am crazy enough to be trying to write 3 stories at the same time..so whoever yells at me the loudest gets their chapter written.


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